


The New (Baby) Frontier

by ExcitedTree



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Between Episodes, Fluff, Hitting the dad books, ManDadlorian, Spoilers, behind the scenes feels if you will, facing the bounty hunter-caretaker transition, fretting over a new baby here we go, single dad, what disney doesnt want you to see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 11,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21614239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExcitedTree/pseuds/ExcitedTree
Summary: Looking into the horizon, he fidgeted a bit in the pilot’s seat. After successfully clearing out an entire imperial hideout and narrowly escaping every bounty hunter in the city, the adrenaline rush was finally washing out. He found himself simultaneously done yet just on the brink of something new.
Relationships: The Mandalorian & Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 239
Kudos: 729
Collections: Movies





	1. Chapter 1

Looking into the horizon, he fidgeted a bit in the pilot’s seat. After successfully clearing out an entire imperial hideout and narrowly escaping every bounty hunter in the city, the adrenaline rush was finally washing out. He found himself simultaneously done yet just on the brink of something new. 

At this sudden realization, he feels himself tense up just a tad more in his seat. Bruises and all singing in painful synchronization. 

Breaths rushing a bit faster, he found himself having to look at the child in question. He’d have to make sure to get him a new crib of sorts, but where even find one? He was sure his tribe wouldn’t have been able to kill every last one of the bastards. He had to believe a few of them would have made their way out of the battle to come looking for the kid again. Popping into a nearby star system in search of a random marketplace would guarantee them a run in with someone looking for the child and what if-

He hears a sudden coo from the child in his peripheral vision. The kid had become a bit of a blur in the midst of Mando’s blind panic, but it seemed like he still had a penchant for breaking him out of scuffles. 

Feeling his brow slowly unfurrow, he extends a finger to the child. The sole being responsible for tearing at the eyes and lungs beneath his armor. The bright light that had pierced the long years of silence in his life. He can actually feel himself smile a bit at the little thing wrapping his own little fist around his lone index finger. 

Whatever the case may be, he decides, nothing will ever tear him away from the kid. Not now, not ever again. Not on his watch. 

With a renewed vigor and a settled mind, the Mandalorian finally begins to hatch a plan. A whole new life away from the syndicate, from his tribe, now with a kid and a whole ship’s worth of worrying ahead of him. 

Finally, he begins to relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone jams with dad feels, follow-up chapters will continue to shed light into the constant struggles of a single inexperienced dude just trying His Best (tm). 
> 
> See you around.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new dad realizes something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thank you so much for your wonderful support, I am beyond enthused that the fandom is producing glorious Mandadlorian content at mind-blowing speeds! I am a sucker for this dude and his baby, and I will continue to dish out as much fluff as humanly possible.

The kid was by all accounts already long eased into his new life with his father. In his mind, he was happy to be there with him, eager to ease the tremors that had been growing steadily in the space around him too. 

Many may ask why exactly the little ball of intuition had so readily clung to a stiff masked figure in the span of five weeks. Truthfully, the child had never seen a light as bright the one sitting right next to him.

That is how, without truly being able to piece it together into words or proper thoughts, the child knew he’d be safe and warm in his Mandalorian’s arms. Always. 

After picking at nearby buttons and feeling the lull of his guardian’s presence near him, he had successfully captured his attention. Cooing slightly, he was eased into the familiar crook of his arm and got an even better look at those jewels in front of them. 

The child is quickly rewarded by the soothing sounds of his father’s voice. Not exactly understanding him, he can still tell from the pleasant tones that all is well. The tiny bundle of warmth can’t help but preen against the solid plating of his father’s chest. 

The aforementioned father, only after setting a course for Sorgan, suddenly takes notice of a very important detail. 

The kid definitely needed a bath. Being crushed against a metal cuirass and thrown into a filthy speeder had left him reeking of gunfire and dirt. He’d completely forgone looking over for any scratches and bruises that had to have accumulated on the boy while escaping from that hellhole of a planet. 

He glances down at the little thing monopolizing his entire right arm for a brief second before quickly setting the ship to auto pilot. 

The Mandalorian, the deadliest bounty hunter in the parsec, settles his child into a nearby basket of ammunition. He scours his reserves of Tillium soap and runs the Razor Crest’s fresher.

“…. I hope you don’t mind water, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well welly well well, stay tuned for a bath. I am at least 99% sure the bab needs one and I am personally shocked and appalled that wE DiDn'T gEt OnE. 
> 
> Ta-ta for now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby finally gets a bath. Local father nearly cries in relief at lack of stink. Cooperation at its finest.

In a surprisingly quick and efficient manner, a small makeshift bathtub was fashioned out of an old armored ration box. All the necessary tools were at hand, the only thing needed was the child.

Said child had been watching him from his impromptu crib silently for the past five minutes, pointy ears perked up in excitement(?) He had no idea what exactly his father had been up to, but he was just happy to be included. 

Ever so gently, he retrieves the boy from his post. The child warbles contentedly at being picked up again, quickly clinging to his father’s chest in anticipation of whatever is going to happen next. 

He confidently makes his way back to the bath set-up, baby in tow. Halfway towards the tub he freezes at the sudden wail coming from his arms.

“Did you _just now_ figure out what is about to go down?” He murmurs in mild amusement. “You need a quick bath, okay? I don’t want any scratches you might have to get infected. You’re also starting to smell like an actual womp rat and we can’t have that, kid. Not on this ship.”

With those last words, he reaches the little tub and begins to gently lower the boy into the warm water. 

…Okay, so now the kid is not letting go. That’s fine. 

He tentatively begins to the pry off the tiny fingers clinging to his shoulder and soon enough the tub is filled to the brim with a wriggling baby. Momentary panic is replaced with absolute delight as the child becomes determined to splash as much as his tiny body can. 

Sighing in relief at the child’s abrupt change in mood, he sets about rolling up his sleeves and reaches for the washcloth. 

“You will smell significantly better once this is all over. You’ll be promoted to _Kibo_ straightaway, womp rat.”

The mandatory baby-bath had run its course. Ears were cleaned. Bellies were scrubbed. Scratches were patched up.

Soon enough bath time drew to a close, and a galaxy renowned bounty hunter found himself with an arm-full of warm baby luxuriating in a post-bath nap. 

_I guess I’m trapped here for the foreseeable future then._

While he was already seated back at the pilot’s seat right before the kid had conked out, he took to glancing over their progress on the journey to Sorgan.

They were actually a lot closer than he’d imagined. About a few hours’ worth. Faintly smiling in resignation, he settled for spending the rest of the ride right where he was.

_If the kid wakes up, he’ll press every button on the way to Sorgan and throw us off-course to Hoth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Yes, I DID have to watch a youtube video to figure out how to wash a baby. Do I regret it? No. It's what baby yoda DESERVES. 
> 
> I have spoken.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dynamic duo's trek to the nearest settlement does not go as planned. Mando tries to not lose his entire mind. Baby will continue to, unfortunately, be baby.

The feel of the ship finally hitting solid ground gave way to a near rapturous relief. A chance at a new life away from the rest of the galaxy, far out of harm’s reach. 

_Sanctuary…at long last._

In the end Mando had been swayed embarrassingly quickly by the kid’s outright imploring gaze. _Of course_ he’d want to tag along with him. Grumbling (but also not really grumbling) to himself, Mando hastily decided that a bit of exercise would do the kid good after being cooped up in the ship for weeks. Struggling to keep his traitorous arms from scooping the little thing up and throwing him back into the safety of the ship, both father and child embarked on a search for lodgings.

Five steps out and the odd pair’s trek to the nearest settlement had been halted. The child, never having seen so much green at once, had scampered away at the sight of a line of jeweled bugs marching into the undergrowth. Tiny body becoming fully submerged in lush shrubbery, the kid had managed to disappear in seconds. 

A resigned breath getting caught in his mask, Mando set his visor into tracking mode and trudged off into the woods in search of the boy. Luckily, he’d found the child excitedly babbling to himself, hunched over…something. _Oh no. Oh Hell. He’s found a frog, another frog, it’s probably already in his-_

Thankfully, it hadn’t been another frog. This time, the kid had effectively halted the line of bugs that had caught his eye and was in the process of lifting one up to his mouth and- Mando dived.

“No no no no, absolutely not. I saw you eat a frog last time but you’re not allowed to pick up random animals like that off the ground anymore. _Please_ spit that-”

He was too late. The child had already popped the unknown, probably poisonous, insect into his dainty mouth. Mando, being a stubborn bastard amongst many other things, had only been able to frantically pull out a pair of wings and legs out of his mouth. _He ate the rest of it. I couldn’t stop him. He probably didn’t know what he was eating, he was probably hungry because I couldn’t get him to eat his rations this time. Oh god-_

His darkening thoughts were interrupted by a comically tiny burp. Glaring at the ball of mischief huddled beneath him, he sighed for the umpteenth time that day. “Alright. Loud and clear. We’re getting you some proper food, okay? That’s why we’re here in the first place, _Kibo_.”

Pledging to never let the kid do that to himself ever again, he smoothly lifted him up from the nest of brambles he’d found him in. With little fuss, the kid had been eager to walk by his side again with a new unwavering determination. The tiny carnivore had sensed the outright distress he’d driven his father into by running off for a couple of seconds. Nodding a little bit to himself, he swore that he would always stay close to him. His father must have been so scared all by himself! After all, the child had known what loneliness had felt like for such a long time. 

Somehow understanding his own mini-onslaught of emotions, the child gazed upon his father once more, only this time with a lot more _feeling_. 

Mando caught himself stuttering in keeping his pace even with the child’s smaller steps. _What the hell was that? It felt like- a voice without words? Without sound?_ Shaking himself, he chalked it up to lightheadedness. They both needed some food stat. The kid had dashed into strange bushes for random bugs to eat, and he’d begun to conjure up random hallucinations out of the blue. 

“ _Kibo_ …please don’t run off again or you’ll lose your walking privileges from here on out.”

Said child understood his father’s scolding tone but he still replied to it with a warm coo. The last time he’d heard that tone of voice he'd been rewarded with plenty of arm-time. He’d already decided for himself with surprising clarity that he _loved_ arm-time.

Mando was in for a world of trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your endless support and sweet comments continue to send me into sporadic fits of joy. Thanks for tagging along for the ride! I hope I am able to continue to meet this fandom's high demands for Mandadlorian fluff. Goodness knows I am always in a mighty need for it. 
> 
> Ta-ta for now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father and baby reach their desired destination. Chaos ensues, unbeknownst to baby. Father ages about five more years in five minutes.

Immediately upon reaching the settlement all eyes were glued to the striking armored figure, the smaller lump of cloth waddling by his side going almost unnoticed. Internally shrinking at the attention, Mando couldn’t help but wonder just how invisible they’d manage be on Sorgan after all. 

Unconsciously picking up his pace, he failed to keep an eye on the child who was still struggling to keep up with his wider strides. At the sound of a chilling growl, he felt his head immediately swivel out of instinct and catch a glance at the trembling little thing behind him who’d gotten too close to someone’s lothcat. 

Taking a quick deep breath, he minutely slowed his pace for the kid to catch up to him. _The kid’s fine, he’s fine. Lothcats don’t devour children. I don’t need to kick it in the face. There are too many witnesses anyw-_ Willing himself to end _that_ particular train of thought, the odd pair made their way to the nearest unoccupied table (high chair included). 

Once the child is comfortably settled into his special high chair, Mando’s shoulders nearly sag in relief. He was mildly shaken at just how much the kid had managed to stress him out in the span of five minutes. At this rate he’d worry himself blind. 

The chirping bundle of cloth across from him was too absorbed in his surroundings to sense his father’s change in demeanor. The soft chatter around him felt almost as pleasant as the warm tones of his father’s voice. The child luxuriated in the now calmer presence of his father, who reclined into his own seat and said something to someone who appeared before their table. 

At that instant, the calm that the boy had been feeling cracked. The air around his father crackled as he suddenly rose from his seat in one smooth motion and stalked outside. The child, squeaking quietly in confusion, took this to mean that it was time to go somewhere else. He began to lower himself from his high chair until a pair of arms stopped him. They weren’t his father’s. 

Suddenly very fussy, the little thing chirped in outright indignation at the treatment. The same stranger who had sharply placed him back onto his chair then had the nerve to shove a strange spoonful of liquid into his mouth. 

It was very tasty and warm, but that was beside the point. 

Carefully watching the stranger who’d stopped his descent, the child waited for the _second_ they’d turn around. He’d decided to take the tasty warm stuff along with him for good measure. The mean person _did not_ deserve it. Once on the floor, he scurried off in the direction his father had gone as fast as his little legs could carry him. 

Said stranger, who’d been waving at an old friend who’d come to visit her bar, looked back to her charge only to find his high chair empty. Filled with dread at the thought having to tell that strange fellow that she’d lost his _baby_ , she managed to spot him halfway towards the door and chased after him.

What the child lacked in speed he more than made up for in pure diminutiveness. Squeezing through a couple of legs and waddling behind some very tall people, he escaped the mean stranger who ran after him.

He was determined to let his father know that they’d never come here ever again. Too many mean people. One had growled at him and another had chased him! He hoped he’d find him soon enough. All he had to do was close his eyes and see where the light was brightest. His father was the brightest one of them all, so it wasn’t very hard for the child to spot him. 

Very pleased that his father had decided to wait for him, the child was happy to stumble silently towards him. Noticing that his father had made a made a new friend, he decided to stand a little bit away from them until they stopped playing in the dirt. He’d decided that he’d sip at the tasty cup he’d taken for himself until they finished. 

Every time he closed his eyes he’d see how pretty they both were. Like flames dancing around each other. His father had found another light that was almost as bright as him! He was almost sad to see them stop, but the child preened at the feel of his father’s arms finally enveloping him again and sweeping him off of his sore feet. The chase had taken a lot out of him.

Unbridled delight at reuniting with his father turned to utter bewilderment as they returned to that awful place. The people there had tasty warm things but they had been very mean to him. He still didn’t like them. He tried to convey this stern sentiment to his father with little success.

At the child’s uncharacteristic squirming, Mando found himself softly whispering to him. “ _Kibo_ , it’s alright. You’ll get to stretch your legs again after this, okay? You’ll finish your soup, and we’ll walk back to the ship.”

“You named your kid after a flower?” The stranger, with impeccable hearing apparently, loudly comments.

“Yes. I did. What of it?” Mando shoots back, albeit slightly defensive of the nickname-turned-into-an-actual-name. He did, _accidentally_ mind you, name the boy after a flower. If the tribe ever found out, they’d never let him live it down.

“Nothing. Didn’t think it was a very ‘Mandalorian’ name after all,” the stranger answers with a teasing gleam in her eye. 

_It really isn’t. Shame the knowledge can’t die with you now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. Your endless support just sENDS ME- I've become practically unstoppable and hooked on the dastardly fluff scenes that I want to desperately belt out and make a reality for you.
> 
> Ta-ta for now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of a runaway escape artist, his father, and his father's new "friend."

So, Sorgan had been a bust. 

That was fine, he could respect Dune’s claim on this particular gem of a planet. They’d just have to find another remote planet in the vast galaxy ahead, and honestly, _how hard could that be?_

Dune had left the second her soup and personal introduction had been concluded. Which left him and the kid seated at their table. Kibo was already drinking his way through his fifth cup of soup which had been free of charge apparently. Something about the establishment offering their _sincerest apologies_ for misplacing the child he had left in their care.

Looking over at the source of said _apologies_ , who was now more than willing to run the entire place into bankruptcy, Mando supposed he could forgive the kind woman for her mistake. 

Amber eyes crinkling between each gulp of soup, Kibo had decided to forgive her too. She kept on bringing more tasty things to their table, and she would smile at him a lot more. Everyone was _nice_ now and he welcomed the change with only a slight tinge of resentment, which had been appropriately drowned out with copious amounts of soup.

After the seventh cup, Mando decided that Kibo had definitely gotten his fill. The boy’s sudden drowsiness not escaping his gaze. With a poorly concealed chuckle, he realized that the kid had really driven himself into the beginnings of a food coma of all things. _Well. I guess it’s time to head back to the Crest._

His attempts at paying the tab had been firmly rebuked, the restaurant’s owner insisting that a couple of cups of bone broth hadn’t even put a _dent_ in her supplies. Ushering them off with a pack of hearty provisions for the road, she waved them goodbye as the pair returned to the path they had taken that morning.

A remote planet filled with not only gentle but also _incredibly_ hospitable people? Mando allowed himself only a brief moment to mourn the loss of their potential home, all the more determined to find another one for both of them.

Kibo on the other hand, whilst in the middle of a heavy soup-induced haze, had become terribly sluggish on the walk back. Finally, in a fit of sleepy grumpiness, he knew what he had to do. 

Stopping in his tracks and letting out an especially loud whine in his father’s direction, he waited.

Said father, startled out of his brainstorming, could only stare back at the child with a confused tilt of his head… _Why had he stopped?_

Completely forgetting exactly what route they’d take once settled into the ship, he made his way back to where he’d stopped. Kneeling in front the boy, he was about to ask what was wrong until he felt his tiny body collide against him in a rush. Growing more concerned by the second, tiny hands begin to frantically grip at the armored plating of his chest, _beseeching_ and _crying out_ all at once.

Panicking a bit at the kid’s sudden neediness, he attempts to lower the harsh tone of his filtered voice to a more soothing one. “Kibo? What’s wrong? Did something scare you again? Please, just calm down. I’m right here, I’m not leaving-" He unexpectedly chokes on his words at the rush of a new terrifying memory. _I did leave him once. I still don’t know what they did to him in that place, but I let them take him. I let them use him. I let them-_

Without thinking, he engulfs the chittering little thing in a suffocating embrace once more, cradling his head to a softer spot on his chest with a gentleness he never knew he had. Listening for any more whines or shudders, he’s surprised to hear a string of near-melodic purrs and coos coming from within his arms instead.

“…Did you just want a hug? Is that it? _God_ , you really are a handful, aren’t you?” He chastises the kid with a trembling smile that remains hidden beneath the steady composure of his helmet. 

Easing him back onto solid ground so that the tiny dramatist may continue to stretch out his equally tiny legs, the child rewards his attempt with a piercing wail before his feet so much as even touch the ground. Flinching, his father instinctively presses him against his chest once more. 

A few seconds pass before he realizes exactly what the kid wants, or rather, _demands_ from him. _He wants me to carry him all the way back. No question about it._

Looking down at the unmistakably smug look flashing across the kid’s face, his entire resolve crumples. “Kibo, you have got to be kidding me. I can’t always be your personal chauffeur you know."

His scolding, but yet again not _really_ scolding, tirade is met with a gleeful chirp. _Well. That about finishes that argument._

Resigned, but very much internally gushing at the kid’s sheer greediness for _his_ hugs and _his_ attention, he makes his way back to the Crest. The bundle of warmth in his arms practically burning a hole through his chest, possibly the only thing able to get through Beskar steel. _A dangerous thing indeed._

Kibo, his little grip vicelike along the edges of his father’s sleek chest plating, rejoices at his new discovery. 

_His father likes hugs too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. We needed to get a silly Kibo BEGGING for arms somehow. Mando has been confirmed as an official Worried Dad 24/7, and I Will Take Advantage of That. 
> 
> Ta-ta for now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of a very eventful day. The babies are babied-out and the fathers are...tired.

Once they'd finally gotten back to the Crest, the sun had already set and Kibo had predictably fallen fast asleep against his shoulder. Trying to ignore the terribly endearing noise of tiny snuffling snores, Mando finally settled for tucking him away in the ship for the rest of the evening. _Those seven cups of soup will definitely keep him down for a few hours, I need to make sure the Crest's "new" repairs are holding up before we take off anyway..._

The ship’s hatch opened up with a small hiss and he quickly made his way inside. Now, _where_ exactly he would settle the kid into for some rest was still a burning question that he had been managing to avoid for a while now. 

The kid’s floating pod had been a clever and quite frankly irreplaceable piece of machinery. It had served as Kibo’s chair, crib, and _vehicle_ all at once. He remembered stubbornly staying close to it day in, day out. He’d even gotten used to listening to the same little snuffling snores coming from it after every taxing day he had spent on that sweltering hell-hole of a planet. Seeing it crumpled up and thrown carelessly into a dumpster with no kid in sight had been- 

Breaths suddenly coming in faster and harsher against his helmet, he forced himself to trample that thought down for just a _second_. He abruptly began to lightly run a padded thumb along the kid's brow, willing himself to focus on the current task at hand and…it worked. _Kibo is here now. Everything is alright now, and I’ll make sure to keep it that way._

Back to the matter at hand, without the kid's pod he'd resorted to a temporary, and slightly impulsive, new way of cradling him. Accidentally making _himself_ into a crib had been shockingly… pleasant. Never mind the awful stiffness that had mercilessly attacked him the morning after. Kibo had woken up brighter than he had ever thought possible, nice and _clean_ and happy. The painful side effects of acting as the perfect pillow for him had been embarrassingly worth it.

Shaking himself out of the unexpected reverie, he silently grumbled to himself. _Kibo needs a proper bed of his own, I can't let him grow too dependent on my own mindless coddling. Damn it! The kid literally wailed for me to hold him today!_

Thoughts of the _soft_ couple of days he had spent with the kid began to tear at him. He would have been firmly reprimanded by his tribe for selfishly shoving a newborn foundling into such a strong attachment with himself. Kibo (blast the dratted name he’d forced onto the kid) wouldn’t benefit from all the pampering in the long run. 

Only weakness came from indulgence, and if one day Mando happened to not be there anymore…the little thing would be _crushed_. 

Unconsciously having worked himself into an anxious pace around the cabin, he chanced a glance at the delicate thing in his arms. The one being he had thrown everything away for. _I’m hurting him by hovering over him like this. I need to find him a safe place where he can sleep by himself in from now on._

Finally deciding on the cot he’d kept hidden away in one of the Crest's many compartments, he set about carefully tucking him in… _aaand Kibo isn’t letting go again._

Letting out a helpless muffled snort at the unconscious snuggler _still_ holding on to him for dear life, he managed to free himself from the tiny ironclad fingertips through sheer will alone. A slumbering Kibo was then decidedly wrapped in the softest clean blanket he could find lying around, and with a few lingering pats he was finally left alone to dream away.

With the smooth metallic slide of the cot door closing, Mando valiantly tried to ignore the nagging feeling in his chest at spending a night away from the kid in so long. He’d slept so close to his silly little pod before for weeks at a time. But then again, now wasn’t the time for those selfish impulses to rear their ugly head _again_. 

He had the Crest to look after now, and he had to make sure the old gal still had it in her to cart them all over the galaxy again. Assuredly coercing himself into a new peace of mind, he made his way outside of the ship to check on some of its major external repairs, the ship’s hatch solidly closing behind him. 

A few moments later, head shoved beneath the Crest’s right wing, the low hum of a meager transport soon alerted him to the arrival of some…unexpected visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kind and lovely comments continue to send me into cardiac arrest, okay? Once again, I am eternally grateful for all of your beautiful support!!! <3 <3
> 
> Ta-ta for now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Single father gets hired on the spot, baby continues to be as unemployed and unbothered as ever.

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of his undivided attention. 

He kept his head stubbornly buried in one of the Crest’s main wheels, not really caring about the people who were steadily approaching him. Whoever they were, if they really tried anything he was sure he’d be able to knock them on their backs in a second. He’d faced down _worse_.

A few sluggish moments drifted by and soon enough the figures decided to make their presences known to him. All the while his back remained turned to them carelessly, he _really_ wasn’t in the mood for _another_ wrench to be thrown into his plans. He had just barely gotten over the mild disappointment at having to leave Sorgan. 

_Dune really knew how to pick her own goddamn flawless retirement plans._

Over the roar of his sour thoughts, he had managed to string a few words from the people who had apparently sought him out. They were krill farmers. Their harvest had been stolen. They had payment upfront for his services. He’d sensed just how desperate they were for it too. _Meek. Frightened. Something had really scared them._

Too bad it just wasn’t his business anymore. Not here at least. 

With no warning, he popped the Crest’s hatch open. He was done for the day, and it was time to leave. He needed to check on the kid just to make sure he was still sound asleep. If Kibo was awake then he’d definitely be getting a bath. No question about it. He had spilt a bit of his sixth cup of bone broth on himself and the smell had begun to steadily drive Mando out of his mind. Both kid and tiny robe were due for a wash as soon as they took off, and by god was Mando not a man of idle threats.

Confidently striding back into the safety of the Crest, he made his way to shut the hatch all the while unconsciously tuning in to the pair’s bellyaching.

“Took us the whole day to get here! Now we have to ride back with no protection to the middle of nowhere-“ 

He stiffens at the last word. _Nowhere is exactly what we’re looking for- no, it’s what we need. It’s what Kibo needs._

A few words later confirming that yes, the pair of farmers did live in the literal middle of nowhere with plenty lodgings to spare, has him turning back into the ship to unpack. He’s already decided he’ll rope Dune into this, handing over all payment from the potential contract to her is no great loss for him. They came here for sanctuary and he refuses to let go of this perfect opportunity. 

Marching into the ship with a newly restored hope practically beating out of his chest, he abruptly runs into the tiny overlord of said hope.

“And just what are you doing out here? Didn’t I leave you in a nice spot? How did you even get out?”

The diminutive escape artist gurgles happily, at the faraway echoes of his father’s voice he had perked up from a pleasant dream. A dream of both of them staying in the pretty green place that they had found together. Drinking tasty things and finding crunchy bugs to chew. He’d teach his father how to hunt, and he’d hold his hand wherever he went (it was safe to say that Kibo had no concept of height differences or dietary differences yet). 

Seeing the imposing figure of his father glaring down at him, arms firmly crossed over his chest, did nothing to dissuade the giggles that fell from the child’s mouth. Kibo had long become infected with the overwhelming _joy_ that had begun to radiate from his father. To him, his father burned impossibly brighter with it, filling him with so much warmth and bubbly things all at once.

At said giggle, Mando felt a physical toll somersault off his shoulders. Gaze softening beneath his helmet, he couldn’t help but crouch down in front of the puddle of giggling smelly cloth. 

“We’re going to be okay now,” he softly murmured to him, idly running a gloved thumb across his tiny brow. “The nice men over there?” He points over his shoulder at the two, now _ecstatic_ , farmers happily unloading the ship’s contents onto the transport. “They are going to be helping us get our stuff home, okay?” 

Finally easing the kid back into his arms, soft blanket and all, he brings him back to his new sleeping spot in his cot. He’d noticed how sleepy Kibo still was, despite the sweet peals of laughter he’d fallen into. _He must have woken up at the sound of voices somehow? Whatever. I need to get him to fall asleep again so I can go find Dune._ The farmers who’d come looking for him didn’t exactly seem like they could…take care of a child. The Crest was inarguably the best guardian for the kid, second only to himself of course. 

Stilling for a brief moment, he settled for awkwardly swaying in place with the kid to lull him back to sleep. At least, that’s what he’d seen in a couple of cheesy holotapes he’d mindlessly played for himself on especially long trips. Studying the bundle in his arms closely for any signs of fluttering eyelids, he was thrilled to hear the rumble of a tiny yawn instead. In just a few more minutes, Kibo was successfully brought back to a peaceful slumber. Sparing no time to admire his handiwork, he went through the same practiced motions of solidly wrapping the kid back up in his blanket and setting him down onto the cot without jostling him too much. 

With one last look at the snug little thing, he closes the cot’s door entrusting him to the Crest’s solid embrace for now.

He has a ‘Cara Dune’ to track down as soon as possible.  
\----  
Scanning the area for any thermal signatures, he finally finds her a few meters away from the settlement they’d spoken in that morning. Cautiously approaching the sleeping figure slumped against a tree, he pointedly wonders why she chose such a vulnerable spot to camp in for the night. 

Pushing away the thought, he throws the bag of credits beside her with a loud thud. She has her blaster pointed at his head in seconds. _Well. I guess she can afford to sleep out in the open like this after all._

Nonplussed, he nods to her. “Ready for round two?”

She lowers her weapon just a bit, smirking at the suggestion. _She’s all ears. Convincing her to take the deal might not be much of a challenge after all._

One thing he'd learned from Cara Dune right then and there was that they were _both_ looking for the same thing. _A sanctuary hidden away from the rest of this damned mess of galaxy._

And with that, they both made their way back to the transport waiting for them just a few steps away from the Crest. 

This would be their home for a while, and he wasn’t too torn up about sharing it with another retiree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a weirdddd transition for going to the village, but I hope I filled in some blanks as smoothly as possible! We are so close to meeting Omera again guys, holy crap am I excited. 
> 
> Ta-ta for now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ride to the village ends up experiencing just a _tad_ bit of turbulence.

The transport was now filled to the brim with an arsenal of weapons and ammunition as it glided through the forest with a low hum. The strange trio onboard it had fallen fast asleep, all except for one. 

Kibo, stubbornly wide awake, remained transfixed by the view of the jeweled sky above him. He was settled in a makeshift nest of piled up blankets, all smelling faintly of a soothing smell he’d come to associate with his father. He basks in the feeling of his father’s presence near him, which had become hypnotizingly tranquil and undisturbed like a steady heartbeat. The child can’t help but focus on it, thrilling at the surge of static around him. 

Mando, who had been gradually fading into a semblance of sleep, suddenly stutters awake. His arms, still crossed above his head, refuse to budge from their position. Feeling a rising sense of dread deep within him, he tries to _at least_ jerk his fingers awake. He realizes with numb terror that he’s lost all sensation in his limbs, while still being uncomfortably awake in the midst of it all. His body isn’t… _his_ anymore, and blood begins to rush to his head in the most _godawful_ way. Doggedly ignoring the _blind panic_ he’s minutes away from falling into, he keeps trying to fruitlessly grapple with whatever is holding him down.

_This has to be a nightmare. I’m being stupid, I just need to-_ With a start, he feels the feeling in his limbs crash back into him mercilessly. He shoots up from his lounging position with a hollow gasp, desperately trying to keep his ridiculous wave of shudders to himself. 

In the few minutes of dead silence following his outburst, he quickly glances around to find Dune thankfully still asleep across from him. Bringing his trembling hands to the sides of his helmet, he drops his gaze to his right, only to find Kibo staring at him in… _fear?_

Of course the kid was terrified. He’d just jerked awake like an animal _possessed_. Berating himself for having woken up the sensitive little thing, he eases into a more relaxed position, steadying the remaining tremors in his hands against his lap. 

“Kibo, it’s okay,” he whispers in the most reassuring tone he can muster. “Did I wake you up? I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ He’s cut off by a distressed sniffle and suddenly he’s _moving._

He reaches for the kid’s nest of blankets, gently getting a hold of them and sliding him neatly into his right side. He’s already decided that sleep is _not_ a thing that he’s willing to try again for the rest of the night, and firmly marks that point by curling an arm around the kid’s small frame. Relieved to notice no more sniffles coming from the puddle of blankets anymore, he reclines once more against the side of the transport, one arm across his lap and the other now official property of Kibo.

_I’ll just…hold on to him like this until we reach the village. I need him to calm down for a bit, then he’ll go back to sleep in no time._ Humming softly in approval, he lets Kibo idly grip and play with the hand resting on his lap. _I guess that one belongs to him too. That’s fine._ Mood brightening with every passing moment, he zones out for a while, happy to enjoy the bubbling stream of Kibo’s soft coos against his hip and the rumble of the transport beneath him. Kibo, now relishing in the comforting weight of his father’s arm around him, rests his head against the smooth angle of his cuirass. 

For one moment he’d _held_ his father perfectly, like one of the faraway jewels above him that he’d always wanted to touch. He’d been so delighted at finally holding him until his father had started to _fight_ him, the light around him rapidly dimming out of existence.

He was _hurting_ him. He’d wanted to keep him and feel him so _badly_ , but he’d hurt him. The second he'd let go of him, his father’s presence burst into the same brightness again, only this time shuddering and gasping for air.

Kibo had felt his father’s bone chilling fear while he kept trying to hold onto him. He’d even felt the shudders that racked through his body moments after he’d finally released him. His father wouldn’t want to hold him or talk to him anymore after what he did. He’d finally known what _guilt_ felt like without really knowing _what_ it was.

But then his father did talk to him again. He’d pulled him close, without hesitation. _He’d forgiven him. He still wanted him._ His presence had become hushed again and remained as bright as ever.

Tiny hand resolutely tangled in his father’s much larger one, he closed his eyes and sank into the sweet embrace of sleep once more. He’d settle for being _held by him_ every day than ever try to _hold him_ ever again.

_Everything would be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's crazy for the wild misuse of the Force?? Me, that's who. Pray for Mando. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and tagging along!! Happy Holidays <3
> 
> Ta-ta for now.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling into the village. A threat is finally followed through.

A soft thud brings the transport to its final stop and the trio are slammed awake. How the hell he managed to fall back asleep, Mando had no idea. Looking over to his right, Kibo had long abandoned the crook of his arm in order to get a better view of the new place they’d washed up on, and it was _quite_ a sight. 

The same lushness that had followed them all over Sorgan was still there, a wide open space speckled with a cluster of gracefully constructed cone-like homes. The clamor of children giggling excitedly filled the air as they ran to greet their new protectors. They’d spotted the silver plated warrior easily enough, but they shrieked in delight at the little thing standing next to him. He was so _small_ and soft-looking. They _had_ to hug him. 

Kibo had been all too happy to oblige, much to his father’s chagrin. _God. He’s so small. Of course he’d also attract attention, but maybe this kind of attention won’t be so bad?_ Brushing aside the familiar string of nerves prickling at him again, he swept a leg over the side of the transport in one smooth motion. _Need to unpack after all. The sooner we get settled in, the better._

He marched off to meet with the whoever he could find in charge of their lodgings, he trusted Kibo would be safe in his pile of blankets as their unofficial official greeter. Meanwhile, Kibo thrived under the spotlight. He _ached_ for a better view of everything and everyone. He’d been traveling with his father all alone for so long, and the cacophony of sounds and smiles aimed at him were unlike anything he’d ever felt or seen before. 

_They’d be happy here. Just like he’d seen before._  
\---  
Quickly enough, he’d met with a few village elders who’d happily pointed him to his assigned lodgings. A spare barn, closest to the edge of the forest surrounding the village awaited them. Mando had deemed it suitable enough and formally thanked them, inwardly pleased at their choice. He’d had to settle for worse dwellings throughout his travels, this one was definitely one of the nicer ones he’d had. Honestly, it’d be more than enough for them both. 

Dune had been pointed to a barn on the other side of the village, hugging the northern edge of the forest. 

_The raiders had to have come from the forest. On the way to the village the blasted place had been dense enough to hide anything in its clutches. They could be anywhere in it._ Fretfully unloading his supplies into the barn, he froze at its entrance. There was someone there. 

Standing tall and unfurling a dusty tarp, beams of sunlight bathed the stranger’s face as she tied it off firmly to a wooden post. Surprised, he lingered at the door, not wanting to startle her. After a few seconds, the stranger notices him, glancing at him a bit timidly. 

“Please come in, I hope this is comfortable for you. Sorry that all we have is the barn,” she says offhandedly, zeroing in on her work once more, praying he hadn’t noticed her gawking. She’d never seen such a striking set of armor before, her traitorous eyes skimmed appreciatively over the strange weapon tied to his back. _Now just what could that fancy thing do?_

Silently walking by her, he set about putting down the crate of supplies he’d been carrying, not really minding the stranger’s uneasy attempts at small talk. “This will do fine,” he says curtly, back turned to her and eager to continue to set up things for Kibo and himself.

Voice losing its tentativeness, she smiles warmly behind him, “I stacked some blankets over there.”

Stilling in his overly careful unpacking, he winces a bit at his own lack of manners. Giving his back to someone who was being genuinely friendly and welcoming to him on _sight_ had been such a bad move. “Thank you, that’s…very kind,” he mutters back to her, a bit sheepishly. 

Hearing muffled steps creeping at the edge of the barn door, he can’t help but lurch up immediately, fight or flight instinct flaring up in seconds. The source of the noise scampers away with a fearful squeak. The kind stranger looks at him, startled, and goes back to retrieve the little thing he had frightened away. She pulls a young girl to her side, and smiles right back at him, unperturbed. 

“This is my daughter, Winta.” Her voice drops to an apologetic tone, “we don’t get a lot of visitors around here. She’s not used to strangers.” The woman is met with stunned silence.

He hadn’t expected her to linger after that…reaction. He watches her lean down towards her daughter and comfort her in a few soft words. The girl’s apprehension bleeds from her shoulders, then she smiles at him too. She thanks him for being here, even after the scare he gave her. He can only manage a minute nod towards her, shocked and slightly flustered, not trusting himself to talk anymore. 

The stranger continues to look at him with the same kindness in her eyes, gingerly guiding her daughter out of the barn. “Come on, Winta. Let’s give our guests some room,” she breathes into the air and steps out of the barn, taking all of the warmth out with her and leaving Mando feeling cold and regretful.

That memory was going to haunt him for a while. He’d scared a literal child. _Again._ Shaking himself out of the downward spiral he was about to fall into, he glances over at Kibo who had followed him into the barn like a very good boy. _Thank god he didn’t run off again while I was busy making a fool out of myself._ He sweeps the little thing off of the ground in a feeble attempt to stomp down the sour mood he drove himself into. It works. Kibo chirps gleefully at the sudden movement, happy to be in his father’s embrace again. He wriggles joyfully in his grasp, wrapping tiny hands around the familiar beskar plating of his father’s chest. 

Stiffening a bit, Mando notices something on the kid’s ruffled robe. It was the same nasty splotch he’d noticed on him when they were about to leave Sorgan. Oh, how the scent had lingered.

“Kibo…you don’t exactly smell like yourself anymore,” he murmurs amusedly to the bundle of bone-broth-smelling baby in his arms. Said smelly baby warbles excitedly at the playful tone in his father’s voice. 

Transferring Kibo to one arm, he embarks on a search for a familiar makeshift tub and a bar of Tillium soap among his things.

“Alright, kid. You _and_ your clothes are due for another bath. Lucky you.”

Baby in hand, who is now ardently squeaking for his rightly earned bath, Mando finds his tools quickly and settles the boy into the nearest empty box piled high with clean blankets. 

“Wait here for me okay? I’m just going to get some fresh water for your bath, I’ll be right back.” He steps out into the clamor of people outside, beginning the search for clean water to warm up for the kid.

Kibo, in classic Kibo manner, steps out of his post and follows him right out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot. We made it back! I'm furiously rubbing my hands together as we speak. Sorgan fluff-times are a-go. 
> 
> Ta-ta for now.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The baby gets a bath, again. Mando gets a heart attack, again.

_This feels…nice_ , Mando thinks to himself as he makes his way to the village well. A young man with a starstruck look in his eyes had pointed it out to him once he’d asked around for fresh water. 

He’d been happy to make the trek towards the well, the stone pathway that lead up to it had been a pleasant one to follow. There was no danger here. To his knowledge, Kibo had been easily settled into his impromptu crib and was comfortable in his pile of blankets. Mando would be sure to come back for him as soon as possible

Once he’d made it a few steps away from the well, however, he’d already grown extremely irritable. He _knew_ he stuck out like a sore thumb, but the scrutiny from everyone he’d passed on his way there had been _relentless_. Men, women, and children alike had started to _coo_ at him and point in his direction as he walked by. He had been used to stares, and sometimes even curses from strangers around him, but just _what_ in the fresh hell was _this_?

Gaze stubbornly fixed on the objective ahead of him, he finally reached the well. Bucket now held in an unnecessarily tight grip, he made quick work of drawing water from it without breaking a sweat. _The faster I get back to the kid, the better. This is all getting too weird even for me._

Collecting his bucket of water, he turned around to follow the path back to the barn only to find a very familiar individual trailing behind him. Kibo, little legs furiously shuffling beneath him, had just about caught up to him. _I can’t believe I didn’t notice him chasing after me, he could have gotten stepped on the way here an-_

So that’s why people had been fawning around him all morning. Kibo had been following him the entire time like a duckling fiercely trailing after its mother. Cringing at the mental image, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He looks back down at the duckling in question who is now all smiles and grabby hands. 

With a huff, he sets the bucket of water down in favor of picking up the little ball of mischief. “Don’t get the wrong idea, kid. I’m only carrying you all the way back so that we can get your bath over with as soon as possible.” A wide eyed Kibo gurgles happily in response, victoriously clinging to his right pauldron. 

Shoulders losing a bit of the tension he’d built up on the way there, he reaches back down to pick up the bucket with his free hand and descends upon the path once again. Kibo is elated to get a better view of his new home from a higher vantage point. Quickly growing bored of looking around, he reaches up a pudgy hand to trace the cold smoothness of his father’s face and is immediately rewarded with pleasing rumbles from his father’s chest.  
…

Stepping into the safety of the barn, Mando returns Kibo to his sorry excuse for a crib. Kneeling in front of him, he raises a stern finger at the child. “Your bath will be ready in a minute. Stay _here_.” 

Kibo mimics the motion, raising a chubby finger right back at his father. He lets out a few equally firm babbles, wiggling his finger after each point. A stream of laughter bubbles out of Mando’s mouth at the sight, and it’s been so _long_ since he’s been this happy. The sad realization makes him laugh even harder, he’s _missed_ this. Tearing himself away from the kid, he retrieves the bucket of water and begins the process of warming it up properly, thankful for the portable heater he brought along with him from the Crest. 

Kibo, beaming at his father’s retreating back, lets out a gleeful warble at the unexpected turn of events. His father’s presence had burst in a myriad of colors and warmth right in front of him. Lacking the words to piece everything together, Kibo was still very sure that he _loved_ it. He was definitely surprised to know that the only thing lovelier than his father’s voice had been his father’s _laughter_. 

After a few minutes of heating up the water, Mando sets aside some of it to wash Kibo’s robe with. He dumps the rest of the water into the same makeshift tub that he’d whipped up for Kibo before. He looks back at the kid only to find him already out of his box and waddling towards him. He was definitely ready for his bath. 

Helplessly smiling again at the kid’s antics, he leans down and picks him up in one fell swoop. He’s pleased to know that today’s bathtime, and quite possibly future bathtimes, will be so much easier than ever before. 

When easing Kibo into the tub, Mando has to do everything in his power to keep the boy from outright _throwing_ himself into the water. In seconds, the tub is filled to the brim with wriggling baby again. 

The bath is over as quickly as it begins, much to Kibo’s displeasure, but he is immediately wrapped up in the warmest towel possible and his post-bath nap runs as scheduled. Mando gently places him back into his crib-box, and he goes back to work. As much as he’d wanted it to, that dreaded baby robe just wasn’t going to wash itself. It takes a while to wring out the filth from the cloth, once he’s done the water is a disgusting cloudy mess. 

Leaving the robe out to dry on a clothesline hanging from the barn door, he made his way back to Kibo’s box-crib. Relieved to see him still relishing in his post-bath nap, Mando finally allows himself a quick respite and goes back to polishing off the weapons he’d brought with him. All this free-time wouldn’t last and he’d be sure to make the most of it. He settles down in an old wicker chair close by and begins to meticulously disassemble and assemble each weapon he’d brought, falling into a steady rhythm with the kid’s snuffling snores as perfect background noise. 

_This feels nice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! So much fun working out the happy times in Sorgan!! Here we go!!! Full steam ahead lol
> 
> Ta-ta for now.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Local father has to face the grim reality of having to protect the baby from both physical _and_ emotional scrapes.

A big pair of glowing red eyes bursts into existence. There are screams and loud noises all around him, he’s scared. He can see everything at once and he _hates_ it. He tries to bury his head into the trembling arms that are holding him. _These aren’t his father’s arms_. He wants to cry out for him, but his throat is burning and he can’t breathe-

Kibo shakes himself into consciousness, tendrils of smoke hissing away under his steely resolve. He wants to see his father, and he wants to be held in _his_ arms _now_.

He quickly unravels himself from his warm cocoon of blankets and lets out a wheezing breath. He begins to rub furiously at his eyes with pudgy fists, he can’t make the glowing eyes go away.

Tiny heart beating in his chest, he begins to shudder from head to toe. His throat burns up again, but this time he _does_ cry.

Mando shoots up from his chair, scattering the long forgotten blaster rifle in his lap onto the floor. He looks around frantically in the dimness of the barn, reflexes flared and shoulders tense. _Where’s the kid where’s the kid where’s the ki-_

His eyes land on Kibo’s makeshift box-crib across the room. Mando is already there in seconds, reaching into it and immediately falling into hectic attempts at comforting the child inside.

“Kibo? What’s wrong? Please calm down, I’m right here,” he manages to say with a hoarse whisper. His hands messily wrap up Kibo in his blankets again and soon enough he’s tucked him into the crook of his arm. Kibo’s hiccupping sobs lessen ever so slightly, which means he _has_ to be doing _something_ right. Mindlessly smoothing warm fingers over his quivering head, Mando makes his way back to his chair. “Did you have a bad dream? Is that it? Or are you just hungry?” He asks in hushed tones as he wipes delicately at Kibo’s teary face with one of his blankets. “Is that better…?”

At his father’s soft voice and gentle touches, Kibo’s sobs begin to subside bit by bit, now reduced to tiny sniffles instead. He feels a little bit better now, but he can still feel those red eyes burning into him. Small frame tensing at the memory of searing smoke and screams, he begins to roughly rub at his eyes again, Mando flinches at the sight. “Hey! Wait don’t do that! You’ll hurt yourself!” He whisper-screams as he bats aside Kibo’s little fists away from his eyes. At this, Kibo’s whimpers dissolve into wails again and Mando _hates_ himself for it.

Worriedly running a thumb over his tiny furrowed brow, Mando is suddenly struck with a new idea. He hastily shifts Kibo onto one arm as he digs out something from his pocket with the other.

“Found it. Hope this works,” Mando mutters before brandishing a very familiar not-toy under Kibo’s sniffly nose. Mando had admittedly felt a bit silly wrenching off the Crest’s gearshift knob and taking it along with him, but seeing it now in Kibo’s hands definitely made it all worth it. _He still loves it. Thank god._.

Now with Kibo firmly preoccupied and sucking away at the stupid thing, he slumps down in his chair, relief palpable in the air. A few minutes pass by until Mando decides that the coast is clear, the kid is definitely in some sort of trance right now and he’s going to milk it for all it’s worth.

Probably exercising far too much stealth than actually necessary, Mando haltingly rises from his chair, child held in a loose embrace. He walks back to the box-crib and begins the achingly slow process of lowering him into his spot.

With no hesitation, Kibo slaps a pudgy hand across his father’s helmet making him bite back a grin in response. _So that’s a resounding 'no' for more nap-time._ Taking the tiny hand between pinched fingers he smiles, “okay fine. We’ll _both_ go look for food. After all, I’m sure your skills of persuasion will come in handy for this particular mission.” Kibo graces that remark with a happy hum, shiny ball tightly squished against his mouth.  
\---  
Mando had been, by all accounts, absolutely right.

Stepping out of the barn with a baby messily stuffed in blankets had been enough to draw in a few cooing strangers. They not only yelled at him for his abysmal methods for swaddling children, but they also heartily agreed to bring them food before Mando could even get a word in edgewise. Stumbling through a nervous _thank you_ , he made a beeline back to the barn with firm instructions to “re-swaddle that baby, _now_.”

Mando eased back into his chair with a resigned huff, lazily running an index finger around the curve of Kibo’s right ear.

_This day was going to be a long one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop. My apologies for this one being so late! I have decided to limit myself to Saturday updates ~exclusively~
> 
> Mando needs all the help he can get lol
> 
> Ta-ta for now.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes a village to raise a child.

“Is _this_ where you’ve been putting your baby to _sleep?_

There is a very long pause before Mando works up the nerve to reply.

“Yes.” 

Five minutes' worth of uproarious laughter ensues from the three people who’d manhandled their way back into the barn, arms laden with warm bowls of porridge. Mando is forced to wait it all out, arms crossed over his chest, relieved for the helmet obscuring his embarrassed grimace. 

One of them stops laughing first, a woman with short auburn hair. “A baby can’t sleep in a _box!_ Goodness, you should have asked us ages ago for one. My little one is all grown up and her crib is perfect for yours!”

Surprised, Mando quickly uncrosses his arms. “O-oh. Thank you.” He pauses and glances down at a chortling Kibo in his arms who had become infected by the sound of laughter in the room. 

“It’s no trouble at all! Sit tight and I’ll be right back with it,” she replies with a grin and immediately rushes out the door.

The other two finally get a hold of themselves, and one of them extends a hand in greeting. 

“Hello! I’m Darfin and this is my wife, Regali,” the man smiles widely. “Sorry for barging in all at once like this, it’s been a while since we’ve had a little baby running around the village, especially one as cute as yours.”

Mando manages a stiff ‘hello’ back, narrowly avoiding giving his own name by introducing Kibo instead. 

“This is Kibo,” thinking it over he makes sure to include with a wince, “I bathed him a while ago and he doesn’t really have anything dry to wear right now…”

Regali, who had been carefully setting down their bowls on the window sill, whirls around in their direction with a squeak. “When my darling Reingri was a newborn I made sure to stock up on as many baby clothes as possible! She’s long grown out of them now, but I just _know_ they’ll be perfect for your little flower!” She dashes out of the barn without a second thought, tittering excitedly at the prospect of a new baby to dress-up. 

Darfin chuckles, “please excuse me, I’ve got to make sure she doesn’t tear the entire house down while searching for them. We’ll be back in a bit, but for now please enjoy your food before it gets cold.” He smiles at the odd pair before exiting the barn with a poorly concealed panic in his steps.

Mando is once again rendered completely speechless in a matter of seconds, oblivious to Kibo’s relentless adoring gaze from within his arms.

“I guess they really liked you.” He mutters after a few minutes of shocked silence. Lightly pressing the pad of his thumb to the kid’s squinty left eye, he snickers. “I _told_ you that you were very persuasive. If we play our cards right, we’ll take over the rest of the village by next week.” Kibo replies with an enthusiastic peep, immediately clutching at the hand that was now patting his cheek. 

He caught a whiff of whatever the nice people had brought them a second ago, and he needed to try it _as soon as possible_. Wrinkling his nose, he tries to remind his father of those distant sweet smells in the corner of the room. He was so very _hungry_ after all.

Mando’s senses are slammed into overdrive. He smells porridge. He _breathes_ porridge. It feels like his _insides_ have turned into porridge. _Is this what drowning feels like? I can’t-_ he chokes on that last thought as he reverts back into a trembling bundle of nerves.

Feeling his father’s arms suddenly tighten around him, Kibo snaps out of it with a tiny huff. Mando, while still holding onto him, _faints._  
\---  
When everyone makes their way back to the barn, goodies in tow, they find Kibo and his father still in their chair. Kibo fast asleep from the exertion, and Mando slumped over him in a semblance of _heavy_ sleep.

“Aw. I can’t believe he fell asleep with the little thing in his arms!” Regali whispers excitedly. 

“Are you sure he’s asleep?” The auburn haired woman mutters worriedly back. “We should go see-“

“No we won’t!” Regali smacks her shoulder lightly. “We stormed in here and made a whole ruckus! They just got here and they deserve some rest. Darfin! Put the baby’s clothes over there while we set up the crib.” 

The trio begin their work in perfect sync. A wooden crib is soundlessly placed in a warm corner of the room, the softest blankets are piled into it with a new squishy baby toy as well. Tiny sets of newborn clothing are folded onto a nearby crate, and soon enough everything is set. 

They all leave the barn without a sound, overlooking the cold bowls of porridge that had been left untouched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my lateness! Oh my goodness, I've just gotten so busy all at once but I'll hold to my updating schedule as best as I can!!
> 
> Anywho, woot woot at least Mando got some help lol
> 
> Ta-ta for now.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another realization strikes. This one is a lot harder to deal with.

Mando wakes up shivering, skin ice cold underneath beskar steel. 

Still mildly disoriented, he looks down at the baby still clutched tightly in his arms. Mindlessly he begins to rearrange him into a more comfortable position. Mando can feel his stomach lurch as he watches Kibo’s head droop limply onto his forearm. 

Feeling bile rising in the back of his throat, he can’t help but lightly press a hand to Kibo’s tiny chest, shaking him a little and hoping against everything that he’ll just wake up and giggle like he always does. He numbly watches Kibo’s head loll to the side and he can feel himself wanting to _scream._

Kibo’s out cold, just like the last time he- _oh hell._

Mando’s entire train of thought shatters right then and there. He looks back down at Kibo, nerves now fully alight and breaths coming in faster by the second. 

The soundless voice he’d heard on their way to the outpost. The…incident…on their way to the village. And now _porridge._ Kibo had to have- 

Mando shuts _that_ thought down in an instant. He doesn’t want to think about that right now. He doesn’t want to entertain the idea that Kibo had been capable of doing all those… _things. He’s literally just a baby. Sure, I've seen him lift up a 5,000 pound animal in the air but-_

He stops himself before he pops a blood vessel.

“God...” Mando finds himself whispering hoarsely after a few minutes of excruciating silence. “I really don’t know what to do with you…Kibo.” He punctuates the last two syllables with soft pokes at the child’s cheek. 

Gaze drifting away from the child in his arms, Mando finally notices the new additions to the barn. 

A proper baby crib, a mountain of tiny clothes laid out on a nearby crate, and two bowls of something on the window sill. 

Preferring action rather than idleness, he rises from his chair in one smooth motion. He can’t help but sway a bit in place after a bout of lightheadedness at the rapid movement. 

_Damn it. Did the kid really…do that to him?_

A sigh rings hollow in his chest and he sluggishly goes to inspect new crib. He crouches down carefully in front of it, one arm full of baby and the other curious. He reaches out to smooth a hand over one of its bars. A snort of laughter escapes him out of his own accord. 

_Yeah. That’ll hold him._

He pats a hand over the blankets inside of it. Freezing for a few seconds, he finds them plush and softer than any of the blankets he’d had in his supplies. Still sifting through the blankets, his hand bumps into an unknown object. Confused, he cautiously wraps a hand around it and lifts it up for closer inspection.

It’s a crude lump of sewn cloth and stuffing, but after a few more cursory glances Mando identifies it for what it is. A speckled stuffed frog with glowing buttons for eyes. His chest becomes much lighter at the realization. They’d given Kibo his very own toy. An honest to god, proper baby toy. He works up a weary smile under his helmet, remembering the ridiculous metal ball stuffed in his pocket.

_This is all so…perfect for Kibo. He belongs here._

Mando marks that final thought by easing Kibo carefully into his new crib. He bunches up the blankets over his scarily limp little body, throat burning at the sight him. He consoles himself by tucking the little toy frog right beside him.

_…I hope he doesn’t try to eat that._

With a small huff, Mando rises to his feet again and desperately tries to shake off the dread still hanging over him. Falling into the same nervous tick he’d been trying to crush for _years_ now, he begins to pace inside the barn.

_Maybe Kibo didn’t do any of those stupid things. How could he? It’s one thing to lift up an entire Mudhorn but-_ He wants to slap himself for his increasingly stupid line of reasoning. He knows that he needs to stop making excuses for everything but he’s finally, truthfully, _scared._

He leans against the barn wall for support, refusing to ever return to that chair again. Instead, he opts for looking around some more. 

Dutifully ignoring the pile of baby clothes neatly folded on the crate, he goes to look over the bowls of food on the window sill. He really needed to eat something to build up his strength again, the villagers would expect them to go track down the invaders the next day and-

It was _porridge._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for still tagging along after all this time!! Ugh, updating this fic really calms me down and it makes me all happy inside to come back to see all of your beautiful support every time!!
> 
> Ta-ta for now <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the fastest friends you make can be the sweetest of the bunch.

At Regali’s shrill behest, Darfin had been instructed to take a _subtle_ brief peek around the barn after his regular nighttime stroll around the village. Mazal and Regali had both cornered him and agreed that just a quick peek wouldn’t hurt, at least just to see if the clothes they’d brought had fit the baby and-

A series of violent retching sounds quickly wash away that train of thought. 

Brow slowly furrowing in concern, Darfin speeds up his descent towards the barn. Feet brushing against a worn grassy path, he quickly comes upon the source of the painful sounds. 

A figure was currently crouched to the left side of the barn, head bowed meekly into a lone bush and shuddering with every gasp. A stray glint of silver in the dark had been enough to make out who it was. _The Mandalorian_. 

Cautiously stepping beside him, Darfin opts for laying a shaky hand over the sick man’s heaving back.

“A-are you alright?”

The Mandalorian replies with a sharp groan, hastily pulling on his helmet before fully emerging from the foliage and facing him. 

“I’m fine.” He breathes out raggedly with a hand still pressed onto his visor. “I apologize for the… _racket,_ ” he says, with what Darfin imagines is a grimace. “I just wasn’t feeling too well and I-“

“What? No! Please, don’t.” Darfin interrupts, scandalized at the implication. “I just came by to make sure that you and your boy were settling in alright and- are you sure you’re okay?”

The man deflates before him in visible relief, his breaths becoming less painful-sounding with every second. 

“Thank you for your concern, but I really am fine.” He begins to wring his gloved hands nervously despite his new composure. “I just-I don’t think the porridge sat too well with me and-“ 

A soft sympathetic sound escapes Darfin’s lips, and now it’s _his_ turn to sputter out apologies. “I am so sorry about that, I completely understand. Can I bring you anything else to eat? I’m sure I can whip up something for you in a tick-“

“No, thank you!” The Mandalorian raises his hands up in an almost pleading gesture. “I’ll be sure to take you up on that offer tomorrow. I’m still not…” He sighs to himself, stalling for time and choosing his words carefully, “feeling too well.”

Darfin nods solemnly, fully convinced that he’d nearly poisoned a kind and innocent man with his poor attempts at a simple bowl of porridge. Regali and Mazal were going to give him a stern talking-to the instant he’d tell them about it, which he quite frankly deserved. 

With a hasty yet comforting “good night,” Darfin walks away, thinking up a storm of dishes for curing cases of _food poisoning,_ leaving a mildly disheveled Mandalorian standing stiffly beside barn’s doorway. Mando, all too pleased to end the conversation, makes a hasty retreat inside, fully satisfied to spiral into unconsciousness after that exchange. 

_That…had been a close call._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!!! After the state that life is in at the moment, I think some good ol' flustered Mando is in order.
> 
> Ta-ta for now.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone jams with dad feels, follow-up chapters will continue to shed light into the constant struggles of a single inexperienced dude just trying His Best (tm). 
> 
> See you around.


End file.
